


July's Justified Jubilation

by Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth



Series: America and Friends [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 4th of July, Bastille Day, Birthdays, Canada Day, Fireworks, France is cranky because I don't know just roll with it, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 04:36:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19202014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth/pseuds/Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth
Summary: Three events in the seventh month. With one other thing in common:Them things what go up in the sky and go kablooey with all the pretty colors.





	1. First

"Oh Papa," Canada said as he went over to the window, grabbing an ashtray as he did, "don't smoke those in here." 

France blew out a large billow of smoke, taking hold of the aforementioned ashtray. He kept looking out at the vast horizon (he was sitting on the windowsill), grinding his cigarette into the tray without looking over at Canada. 

"Ah, terribly sorry," he told him while handing it back. "It's just that your _frere_ hasn't arrived yet, and I'm getting impatient. I can only handle so much of your awful television.

"And at the prices your country sells these for," he went on, "I might just consider stopping altogether-"

He was then stopped by the little polar bear that lived with Canada. Somehow, he'd managed to grab a hold of France's wallet (it probably fell out of his jeans earlier, and he just didn't notice until now) and was lumbering past the two of them with it in his mouth. 

"Now  _where_ do you think you're going with that, _ours blanc_?" He held Kumajiro up and stared at him, as though he'd caught a child about to pull a most naughty prank. "Come now, drop it. _Drop it_." After a moment's hesitation, Kumajiro dropped France's wallet into his lap. It was then he got set back down onto the floor, resulting in him breaking into a stumbling run. 

"I guess he's hungry," Canada said while watching the polar bear go off. Then he started following him. "Come here, Kumakoko! Come on! Come back and I'll make you some poutine!"

"All these years," France muttered to himself while adjusting back into his spot on the windowsill. "And he still can't get that damn thing's name right..."

...

By the time America did end up arriving to Canada's place about an hour later, France had ended up falling asleep right on the windowsill. Given his arms dangled on both sides of him, and he was drooling profusely, he looked kind of ridiculous. Also Kumajiro had fallen asleep in his lap; Canada didn't move him because he thought it was cute. 

Precisely how the little polar bear didn't wake up from France's loud snoring, that was a mystery. It covered up the sound of America opening the door to Canada's apartment. As such, when America put a hand on Canada's shoulder to get his attention, it caused the latter to get quite startled. 

"Oh, sorry," he said in a loud whisper. "You didn't answer when I knocked, so I let myself in." He then pulled out a thin, gift-wrapped box and handed it to Canada. "Figure I should give this to you now; I actually had to wrestle it away from Tony, because he thought it was some kind of archaic communication device."

Canada stared at the box, before setting it aside on a table. "I'll open it later. Thanks, America." Here, America then gave a more subdued version of his usual boisterous (if not obnoxious) laugh. 

"No problem. Now, how about we wake Sleeping Beauty up so we can get going?" 

...

To see France in anything besides button up shirts and dress pants was quite a surprise, at least to America anyway. For this occasion in particular, he had on a most unexpected, yet oddly appropriate clothing ensemble; flip-flops, knee length capris, and a Daft Punk T-shirt. 

In fact, today France was acting very unlike his usual self. He almost seemed grouchy and irritable. Canada stated that he was often like this in private, however; America just didn't see this side of him all that often. 

"Also he's probably hungry," Canada added to this. "That could also be part of it." 

It hadn't taken long for the three to find a good spot on the beach to set up their portable barbecue pit (thank goodness America could carry such a large hunk of metal). Sure enough, once everything was set up and the meats were cooking, the other two could hear France's belly growling.

"Sure was nice of China to send us all fireworks for our birthdays," America said as he watched France pull out a handful of wood skewers. "Something about how he had way too many, and needed to get rid of some of them?" 

"Well," France told him as he sat back and awaited the first blasts of color in the sky, "what do you expect from the country that invented them? And gunpowder, and the compass, and the original rocket launcher, and the earliest form of ketchup, and cast iron..." 

France then began to count off of his fingers, in a manner that indicated he'd heard it all several times before. Once he ran out of fingers, he started counting on them again. America and Canada could practically hear the eyeroll in his voice the more inventions he listed. 

"I swear, that man should reel it back some. Not all of us have been alive for four thousand years, he doesn't need to rub it in all our faces." Nodding in agreement to this, America then looked over to see if Canada had finished cooking any of the burgers yet. 

By the time the fireworks actually started, the three were comfortably eating their food, staring up as the streetlights nearby went out. All of them were sitting in awe when the red and white bursts took over the night sky. Now, France sidled closer and gently pinched one of Canada's cheeks. 

" _Joyeux anniversaire, mon petit,_ " he said to him. In turn, America pointed to him (with burger in hand, of course) and told Canada "Happy Birthday Bro!" with his mouth full. 

France ended up brushing off any crumbs spewed onto his shirt before all of them continued watching the fireworks. 


	2. Fourth

"We are never going back to that steakhouse! Ever!"

The sky was already turning to dusk by the time Canada and France arrived at their destination. It took longer than they really wanted because the parking lot alone was packed; at least the two of them could see all the types and makes of cars America had accumulated over the last century or so. 

Also it gave the both of them some time to complain about things before they reached the park. 

"Well, I didn't think it was too incredibly bad," Canada told him while trying to keep up (a few of the stragglers kept bumping into him). 

France scoffed. "I had to go to the bathroom there. When I did, a man was snorting crystal meth and trying to barbecue his own foot with a cigarette lighter!"

After this declaration came a pause of contemplation. When Canada put two and two together, his eyes bulged in recognition and remembrance.

"Oh yeah..." Now he just looked a bit embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. "America does say a lot of bizarre and horrifying things happen in this state. He says that it's been happening so often over the years, that he isn't even very bothered by any it anymore. Like, at all." 

Now France and Canada remained quiet as they both traveled the rest of the distance to the so-called "Magic Kingdom". 

...

As the two men entered and looked about the park, Canada tried in vain to keep France's mouse ears from falling off his head. It was hard enough without all the puddles of barf and hordes of screaming children and exhausted parents. 

By this point, neither of them bothered with attempts at communication; it'd just get drowned out by everything else. Instead, they just kept an eye out for where America said he'd be. 

"Happiest place on Earth, my arse," France told himself under his breath. Canada, for obvious reasons, couldn't hear him. 

Finally, after what seemed to be forever, the two of them arrived at the castle America said he would be at.  Sure enough, he was standing on the balcony calling out to them. He, of course, was being loud and obnoxious enough to be heard. 

...

"You dudes came just in time!" America told France and Canada as they entered the room he was in. "They're just about to start firing them off!" 

France just waved him off to try and get him to calm down, as he made his way over. Canada, on the other hand, was already out on the balcony, enjoying the view of the now brightly lit up park.  

"Yeah, I called England earlier to see if he wanted to come visit and watch the fireworks tonight," America went on, "but he just told me to shove off. Ah, well.  He doesn't know what he's missing." 

Even though America smiled and laughed, France knew he was taking it a bit harder than he should've. Even now, after over two centuries, England was still relatively sore about all that warring and independence. 

But for now, he wasn't going to open that can of worms just yet. Instead, he was going to watch the fireworks with two of his favorite boys. 

He also remembered to wish America "Bon anniversaire" while the three stared in awe of the gorgeous fireworks rising above the just as vibrant lights of the park. 


	3. Fourteenth

"Boy; for all that France goes on about beauty and love and all that junk," America said to Canada as they entered France's apartment, "he sure is a real slob in private." 

Canada didn't reply: he simply took hold of one of France's many dirty shirts between a finger and a thumb. Indeed, the France most people saw in public, and the France the others were familiar with, they could not have been more different.  

Although the walls were decorated from top to bottom with gorgeous artwork and sepia-toned photographs, everything else in the room was pretty much the definition of a pigsty. There were gorgeous sculptures (albeit replicas of the more famous actual works), but they were mostly being used as makeshift clothes holders. 

"Is this really the guy that sent me a statue of a hot green chick as a gift back in 1885? Yeesh..." 

By this time, Canada stopped America from making any more disparaging comments. Instead, the two of them scoured the apartment in search of France. Eventually, they did find him; he was in the bathroom passed out on the toilet. With an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth (the lighter was on the floor underneath one of his hands, indicating he'd dropped it before he could use it), he alternated between snoring and angrily sleeptalking. 

At least the bathroom was clean, if drab and dreary looking with its horrid beige and taupe scheme. 

About the only thing Canada and America could really do was stare incredulously at him. Then, America leaned in and loudly whispered to Canada as he pointed at France's bare legs: 

"He really needs to shave." 

...

Now came the most difficult and uncomfortable part of today; actually waking France up.

As quietly as possible, America tiptoed over to him and tried to lean in as quickly as he could. One point halfway there, France sleepily (yet angrily) muttered to an unknown person about giving back a painting, and if the name "Vincenzo Peruggia" rang a bell at all for whoever it was. 

"What's super freaky," America whispered to Canada as he pulled back for a brief moment, "is that I actually know who he's talking about." America then moved back and did what he planned to do. Supposedly, he'd done it at least once during a world meeting when one of the other nations fell asleep (it was Norway; that didn't end well at all). 

France's reaction was precisely what America was hoping for; coughing and swatting away the hand that had pinched his nose shut. To America and Canada's surprise and horror, France then pulled a knife out of nowhere and threatened them. 

He at least calmed down when he saw it was them. 

...

" _Amerique,_ will you get out of my fridge, _s'_ _il vous plaît?_ "

Now that France was awake (and had his pants on, thank goodness), he was out leaning on the balcony of his home, staring out at the picturesque scenery. Canada was standing next to him, of course, having to listen to America digging through the aforementioned fridge for any booze. 

"Ah sorry, France," America responded as he shut the fridge door, a goofy smile on his face as he shrugged and went to their side. "But it ain't every day I get to defy my lousy drinking age. Plus I get to use a crazy straw and not be judged by all the snooty rich idiots in my country." 

It was at this point that Canada gave input: 

"Well, in that case, America," he told him when all three were situated on the balcony, "maybe you can ask  _tata_ Monaco about that if you come with us later to visit her; you only have to be eighteen to drink there, if I remember."

France nodded, a wistful smile on his face. "She is not one to judge, believe it or not. And you only have to be eighteen to be in her casinos, as well!" Here, he leaned over and loudly whispered, his smile taking on a more mischievous demeanor. "That's always a good thing when I bring the other family members over."

Now he chuckled as he moved back, like he just told a naughty joke. 

"But let's deal with that later," France then said, sobering up a bit again. "For now, fireworks." 

By now, the sky was sufficiently dark. Before them, the city of Paris was lit up quite nicely, including the Eiffel Tower. America was just about to ask how they would be able to see the fireworks, before remembering they could see them just fine back at his place. 

Sure enough, when they began shooting up into the sky, they were quite visible. 

" _Bon anniversaire,_ Papa," Canada said to France as he lay a hand onto his shoulder. 

"Yeah, Happy Birthday, France," America said in turn, doing the same action. 

France just nodded, grinning as he put both of his own hands onto theirs. The rest of that night watching the fireworks, they didn't say a word after those birthday wishes. When the night was over, and the other two went home, France called the most reliable airline and ordered three plane tickets to Monte Carlo. 

The whole time, he was at least subconsciously aware of how lucky he truly was. 


End file.
